


Lamps

by Return009



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Pretzels too but only minorly, There is a lamp involved, and a lake, coming of age story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:40:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24903982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Return009/pseuds/Return009
Summary: Lexa's family is new to Lightning, a small little town that Clarke's family resides in.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 17
Kudos: 82





	Lamps

The moving truck pulls into their driveway, kicking up a cloud of dust that reminds Clarke of the small whirlwinds that travel through town on occasion. Whoever their new tenants are, she gives them until the end of fall to realize that life out in the countryside isn’t what it’s all cut out to be. Each year, their small little town of twelve hundred and fifty six sees about a handful of city dwellers looking for “a change of pace” settle in. And they normally don’t last more than two seasons before they’re packing up their belongings to move back to the city. Clarke doesn’t blame them. In fact, she’s quite envious of their situation. This place has a habit of trapping residents and keeping them hostage under the facade of an easy life. 

“Sweetie, won’t you come out to say hello to our new tenants?” 

Obligingly, Clarke slides off the window stool to follow her mom outside, wondering if she’s ever felt the same need to escape Lightning, if she even realizes that an entire world exists beyond the town line. 

“They’re the Woods, and they’re from the city,” her mom says as they descend the steps. “The dad and daughter are here, and the mom is coming in alone tomorrow.”

The day’s old enough to make the heat bearable as the sun casts an orange hue on every inch of their farm. Judging by the small size of the moving truck, the family should be able to finish unloading before dusk.

“Hi, it’s good to see you again!”

A man steps out from the driver’s side and waves to her mom. Clarke notices someone sitting in the passenger side, but she doesn’t look like she’d going to budge an inch.

“It’s nice to see you again, Henry. Was the drive here okay?”

“Yes, aside from some minor traffic in the beginning, it was a relatively smooth ride,” he smiles brightly at her. His red tie flaps in the air when a small breeze passes through. Clarke thinks he resembles a tax accountant working in a cubicle.

“I’m glad to hear that. It’s always exciting when Lightning gets a new resident. You’re going to love it here.”

“I’m sure we will.” The man turns around and waves his arm back and forth to get the attention of the person still sitting in the truck. “Lexa, please come out to say hello.” 

A few seconds pass and Clarke hears the sound of the passenger door creak open. 

“My daughter is still a little sad that she has to transfer schools in the middle of the year, but I think she’ll love it here.”

Tilting her head slightly to get a better look at the girl, Clarke wonders if she too knows that Lightning is a place where dreams and aspirations go to die.

“This is Lexa.” 

Clarke thinks she looks a bit serious with that proud tilt of her chin and the unyielding way she maintains eye contact. 

“Hi, Lexa. My name is Abby.” Her mom, ever the people pleaser, extends her hand out warmly without a second guess. Clarke half expects the girl to make a face, but Lexa surprises her by accepting her mom’s welcome without much resistance.

Her eyes dart over to Clarke when she withdraws her hand. “Hello.”

For some reason, Clarke is surprised to be acknowledged. She blinks and then settles on a less formal wave. “Hey.”

After her mom exhausts all her stories about Lightning and its world famous pastrami sandwich that’s really not so famous outside their the town line, they offer to help the father-daughter duo unload the contents of their truck into the spare house on their land. For a family of three, the Woods don’t have much, and it doesn’t take them long to empty out most of the truck, even with Lexa and Henry stopping at the lake by the house each time. Their eyes gleam with a kind of wonder and yearning as they stand there silently admiring it, like there’s no water in the city they come from.

At some point during their multiple trips between the truck and house, Clarke finds herself walking alone with Lexa. 

“How old are you?” Lexa asks while the sun creeps below the roof of the truck.

It’s strange that she’s so straightforward, but Clarke answers anyway. “Seventeen.” Clarke doesn’t know if that information means anything to Lexa because she doesn’t respond. After a few more seconds of silence, Clarke turns to her with an irritated if not slightly amused expression. “This is the part where you tell me your age as well.” 

“You didn’t ask.” 

Clarke blinks.

That night, as she enters her room after a shower, something outside her window catches her eye. At the dock on the lake, she sees a bright yellow light. 

—  
The next morning, Lexa walks into her homeroom. The boys sitting in the back go _Whoop Whoop_ when they latch eyes on her, but she pretends like she doesn’t hear them and take a seat in the front of the class. Her gaze goes to the window that overlooks the lawn outside like she’s longing to be there.

Clarke feels an arm go around her shoulder as the smell of leather seats and cheap cologne waft in the air. “Is that the new girl who’s just moved onto your land? She’s a total babe.”

She shrugs Finn’s arm off, and he’s not the least bit fazed by her rebuke. Instead, he hitches his legs up on am empty desk and settles back into his chair like he owns the place. Immediately, like she’s developed a sixth sense for this kind of thing, Ms. Park’s eyes shoot to the back of the room in a firm look of disapproval. 

“Damn, that lady must have a pair of eyes on the back of her head or something,” he says as he settles back down.

The bell rings, and most of the students remain in their seats for first period with Ms. Park. 

“Alright, class, today we’re going to do some sprint writing. I want you all to take out a sheet of paper. The point of this is to get you all in the habit of writing. I’m going to give you your prompt, and you have fifteen minutes to write your thoughts down.” 

“Can it be a story?”

“I’m not sure a story would be appropriate for this, but you can try your hand at it if you’re feeling creative.”

She walks to the front of the room, and Clarke hears the rapping of chalk on the board.

_What is good writing?_

Clarke has never claimed to be a writer, so by extension, she doesn’t think she has the talent to judge whether something’s “good” writing or not. Looking down, she wonders if anyone else is struggling to put words to paper. Next to her, Finn’s drawing a picture of a book with a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face. She looks around the room, and no one seems inspired to write more than a few words, except Lexa. Clarke doesn’t know what kind of brilliance she’s trying to instill, but she’s already more than halfway through the front page. 

For the next fifteen minutes, Clarke continues to stare at Lexa writing, and she doesn’t realize that she hasn’t written anything down on her own paper until Ms. Park tells the class to turn in their work. Hurriedly, she scribbles down the first thing that comes to mind and passes it forward. 

“Next, turn your textbook to page fifty-one. I’d like for you to read Coltere’s essay on writing. While you’re doing that, I’ll be reading over your work.” She shakes the stack of papers in her hand for emphasis, and Clarke doesn’t think too much about it until she looks back at Lexa.

Finn leans over to her and whispers, “So that new girl turned in two pages of work.” 

“Yeah, I saw,” she says absently. Hopefully, other people’s work also suck like hers.

Clarke almost thinks it’s a non-issue until Ms. Park interrupts the class with an long, exasperated sigh.

“When I asked for your thoughts, I expected some of you to do some actual thinking.” She lifts the stack of papers up to show to the class. “So far, I’ve gotten a drawing of a book and…a paper with two words. I don’t know what’s more laughable. At least the first person attempted to draw the connection. What exactly does ‘curly hair’ have to do with writing?”

Clarke ducks her head down very low to the desk. 

—  
When she gets home from school that day, she immediately discards her backpack at the door 

“Home! Gonna go take myself a nap so don’t call on me for dinner!”

Clarke shimmies out of her clothes once in her room and drops down on the bed, sighing pleasantly into the soft pillow. The sun still hangs high in the sky when she dozes off. She dreams of the city and lights in her sleep. 

When she wakes, her room is shrouded in darkness. On instinct, she clumsily climbs out of bed and approaches the window. That yellow light by the lake is back again tonight. Feeling bold, she tugs on her jeans and an old t-shirt before snaking her way downstairs, taking great care not to disturb anyone in the house. She lets the yellow light guide her to the lake in the dark, feeling like a moth making its way to a flame. 

“Lexa?”

Lexa is surprised to see her despite her best effort to school her features into a mask of indifference. Her hand shifts to the lamp sitting by her side possessively when Clarke eyes it with a small hint of curiosity. So this is the light by the lake. 

“Were you the one sitting out here last night?”

“Yes. It’s nice out here.”

Clarke wonders if Lexa’s already gotten over her family’s move to Lightning. Would anyone be happy trading the city for Lightning and an old lake that’s probably on the verge of drying out in a few years? Clarke finds herself saying something that she didn’t give much thought to at first. “You and your dad like the lake.”

“My mom too,” she adds, reminding Clarke that the matron of the house settled in today. Absently, Clarke wonders how much Lexa takes after her mom. She didn’t resemble Henry much, who’s a little plain-looking.

“The lake makes me feel free.” 

“Free? I don’t know what that’s like.” 

“No? Your life here is so free. I don’t like the city with all the lights and noise.” 

“I thought Henry said that you were upset with the move?”

“I didn’t like that I had to transfer schools, but I much prefer this place to the city.”

Clarke watches the way Lexa practically glows when she speaks about Lightning. 

“Where did you get that lamp? It’s really bright. I saw it from my room.” 

“It was a gift,” Lexa says, a hint of a smile tracing her lips, like she’s recalling a fond memory. And Clarke thinks she’s never seen anything prettier - not in Lightning or in any of the movies. It makes her stomach flutter, and her face twists in abject horror at the thought that she could feel something akin to…to…and for a girl at that.

“What? You look at me like I’ve just grown a second head.” 

“Nothing,” she quickly dismisses, telling herself it’s absurd and laughing it off, “It’s really nothing. I think I’m just sleepy.” 

—

The next day at school, she slips into the seat across from Lexa in the cafeteria.

“Hello, Clarke,” she says, not the least bit surprised to see her. 

“Hey. So how’s your experience at school been so far?”

“Decent, but your friend Finn is trying to ask me out on a date.” 

Oh. Clarke doesn’t know what to say to that. Finn’s a not a bad guy even though he tries to act like the school jerk sometimes. Clarke knows she should be a good friend and put in a good word for him. Instead, she finds herself thinning her lips and staring really hard at the two bag of pretzels on Lexa’s plate.

“I’m afraid to say that I’m not the least bit interested in him.”   
  
Clarke lets out a breath. 

“Does that sit well with you?”

“I—I don’t like Finn that way,” she hurriedly corrects, and Lexa doesn’t say anything.

\--

Later that night, she returns to the dock with a giant bag of pretzels. 

“That’s a lot of pretzels you have,” Lexa points out. 

“Don’t you like pretzels? I saw that you had two bags at lunch today.”

“That’s only because the vending machine accidentally spit out an extra bag.” 

“Oh. Well, we had a bag lying around, so I figured I’d bring some out to share.” Clarke can’t believe she just told a lie over a bag of pretzels. The truth is that she specifically stopped by the convenience store on her way home from school to buy them. She frowns to herself. 

\--

The weeks after, they fall into a routine of sorts. Lexa makes her way to the dock with her lamp, and Clarke would know to head out there when she sees the light from her room. Her mom develops a theory that someone is sneaking into their home at night when she notices bags of snacks mysteriously disappearing overnight. 

At school, Finn points out the way her seat changes in class. “It’s like you sit closer to the window every single day.” 

She looks over at Lexa who likes to stare out into the lawn and wonders what’s going through her mind. 

“Earth to Griffin.” A hand waves in her face to snap her out of her own musing. “You keep staring at--”

“Good morning, class!”

Clarke thinks she’s never been happier to see Ms. Park.  
\--  
The rain drenches her clothes from the car to her house. The weather forecast says it’s supposed to rain the entire week, and she’s unable to fight the disappointment at not being able to spend time out on the dock.

That night, she lays in bed listening to the rain come down on her roof, wondering if Lexa likes the sound of rain as much as she does. At some point, curiosity gets the best of her and she looks out her window. To her surprise, she sees a a yellow light out there. 

“Oh my god, she’s crazy.”

Clarke slips into a raincoat and boots without much thought and silently makes her way down the stairs again. The pantry door catches her attention on her way out. Looks like her mom’s installed a lock to keep the snack thief away. 

Outside, the rain comes down harder than she expects, and Clarke has to swerve her way around several large looking puddles to get to the dock.

“Lexa, it’s raining! Why are you out here?!”

Lexa turns around, clearly surprised to see her at the dock. She’s holding an umbrella in her hand despite having on a raincoat. The lamp is tucked firmly under her arm. “I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing out here?”

“I saw you-the light from my room!” 

The rain crashes down hard on them, and Clarke moves in closer to get under Lexa’s umbrella. She looks up at Lexa and subconsciously wipes away the matted hair on her face.

“Why do you come out here every single night?” Lexa questions. She’s different tonight.

“I-” 

“You like me,” Lexa firmly declares so that Clarke has nowhere to hide. And, slowly, she starts to close the distance between them until only a puff of humid air separates their lips. Clarke blinks, completely horrified with the accusation but not doing anything to stop her. Then, she feels the first tentative brush of Lexa’s lips against hers. It’s soft, she thinks and grabs at the collar of Lexa’s raincoat, her grip slipping from the water, and presses their lips firmly together. 

The rain continues to come down harder, and under their shared umbrella, Clarke feels the first thrum of desire. In the distance, a flash of lightning strikes, and the loud rumble of thunder seconds later draws Clarke back to reality.  
  
She opens her eyes and the bruised sight of Lexa’s lips causes something like panic to erupt in her chest. She pushes hard at Lexa’s shoulder, sending her tumbling back a few steps. “What are you doing!?”

Lexa blinks, a flash of hurt crossing her pretty face. She tightens her hold on the lamp in her arm. “I kissed you.”

“You can’t do that! You’re a girl, and I’m a girl,” Clarke chokes out the words like they’re painful in her throat. 

“Girls can kiss each other.” 

“No, they can’t!” 

Clarke runs away from the dock, thinking about how much she hates Lightning, how much she didn’t want Lexa to exist. She brushes past her mom who’s standing in the doorway, tears staining her cheeks. 

“Clarke-” Her mom calls after her but she runs up the stairs and slams her bedroom door so hard that the house reverberates. She remembers crying into her pillow for hours before sleep overtakes her that night. When she wakes and looks out the window again, the light is no longer there.

—  
She ignores Lexa for the rest of the school year, even going as far as switching seats with other students to be as far away from her as possible. And Clarke thinks it almost goes over well until Lexa confronts her in the girl’s restroom after lunch one day.

“You don’t have to avoid me. What do you think I would do to you?” She leans her back against the wall, clearly picking a spot as far away from Clarke as possible.

“I-I don’t know what to say to you,” she mumbles, trying to busy herself with washing her hands. 

Lexa sighs. “It’s okay to feel the way you do.”

Clarke feels anger rising in her chest and she spits the first words she can think of out at Lexa. “I don’t feel a certain way about anything, Lexa, particularly you.” 

“Then why did you come out to the lake every single night to sit with me?”

“I don’t know, maybe I just like the lake.” 

"Liar."

Clarke laughs, almost painfully. "Don't act like you know me after a few months, Lexa. Five years from now, I'll only remember you as the pretty girl by the lake one summer."

"Really," Lexa pushes herself off the wall but chooses not to step any closer. "I would think your first kiss would be more memorable." 

"Asshole." Clarke brushes past Lexa, purposely knocking into her shoulder to inflict some level of pain on her. 

_"Clarke, wait!"_

She doesn't look back, and, somehow, that becomes their last encounter before Clarke graduates and leaves Lightning.

—  
Eight years later, she returns home when she gets an unexpected invitation for Finn’s wedding. Truthfully, she’s a little amused by the turn of events. His fiancee is the quiet girl in Biology who he once claimed was ‘homely looking’. Based on her mom’s words, he now bends over backwards trying to make her happy.

“I’m glad Finn’s finally been humbled.” 

“It just took the right girl.” 

Instinctively, Clarke’s gaze goes to the window overlooking the spare house in the distance. From what she knows, the Woods vacated it a long time ago. She didn’t question her mom on their whereabouts, feeling like she doesn’t have the right to know. That doesn’t stop Clarke from wondering about Lexa in her head, though. Of all the city people who’s come and gone, she really thought Lexa would be the one to stay. She finishes her dinner in silence, feeling her mom’s eyes on her.

That night, she tosses and turns in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The bed she’s once slept in still feels the same, but Clarke can’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling that something is missing. Sighing, she pulls herself up and looks out the window towards the lake. A yellow light catches her attention and immediately she jumps out of bed. She doesn’t even bother putting a bra on when she rushes downstairs and out of the house. Behind her, the lights on the first floor flicker on. 

“Clarke! Where are you going?” Her mom calls after her as she shivers in her night gown on the porch. 

“The lake!” 

Her lungs burn the entire way, but she doesn’t care. When she reaches the dock, she discovers that the source of the yellow light isn’t actually Lexa with her lamp. It turns out that fireflies have somehow made a home over the lake at some point during those eight years she’s been away. 

Clarke blinks, watching them dance around in their unfettered happiness. The lake’s never attracted fireflies before. This must be a new thing. Slowly, her eyes lock on three fireflies at the far right side of the lake. They look like a family with the one firefly bouncing around excitedly like it’s trying to entertain his family. The sight vaguely reminds Clarke of someone she used to know.

—  
She spends the next few nights by the lake watching the fireflies. Part of it has to do with her recent case of insomnia, the other part has to do with her unwillingness to stay in bed when she sees a flicker of light outside her window. 

Something about the fireflies and their carefree nature brings peace to Clarke, and she almost considers lugging her mattress out here to see if she can manage to fall asleep. 

“They started coming here about three years ago, right after the Woods left.” 

Clarke looks over to her mom, momentarily surprised by her sudden presence. 

“The lake is nice. I don’t blame them.”

“You didn’t used to like the lake.” 

“I didn’t used to like Lightning either.” 

“Why?” Her mom asks, and Clarke realizes that it’s the first time they’ve ever had this discussion in the eight years she’s been away.

“I used to think it was a place that trapped me.” 

She stares at the family of fireflies idling at the far corner of the lake that’s returned again tonight. They seem so happy being here. Perhaps it’s one of the things that the city can’t offer them - freedom to be themselves. 

“Mom…I think I might be--”

“In a way, you’re a lot like Lightning,” she interrupts, before Clarke can finish her thought. “It has and will always be the greatest place on Earth to me no matter what.” She kisses Clarke’s head and starts to walk away. “What ultimately made you change your mind about Lightning?”

Clarke wipes at the wetness on her cheeks, suddenly longing to be transported back to that time on the lake she once shared with Lexa. “Fireflies.” 

Her mom hums softly as she walks away, a warm, contemplative sound. “I hear they’ve occupied the Woods’ newer residence down the road too.” 


End file.
